The Walking Dead- It's For You
by Amanda Ray Scott
Summary: Rich, Michonne and Carl are discovering that friendships born in the midst of trauma can be the strongest. May contain ((SPOILERS)) S04 The Walking Dead.
1. Chapter 1

It's

For

You.

Rick gritted his teeth and pushed the couch back a few inches as Carl untied and unwound the cord. The door let out a soft squeal as it floated open. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. The white grip of her sword jutted above her right shoulder like a bloom through a crack in the pavement.

"You got any more puddin'?" Michonne said as she stood square in the doorway.

"No. You got my comic books?" Carl gave his smile a little more freedom than Michonne gave hers. Just a little.

"No." she said, and took a step towards the door.

"Then there's no room for you here."

"Is that right?"

"That's right," he said. The two stared hard at each other.

"C'mon, let's get this door closed." Rick said.

Carl stepped aside to let her through, laughing weakly.

Carl wrapped and knotted the cord as Rick began to push the couch back in place. Michonne gave him a side glance and a nod before taking over the task.

Rick sucked a breath through his teeth as he lowered onto the couch. He fell the last few inches.

"You hungry?" Carl asked "I got some food from the house down the street."

Michonne shot a look to his feet, "Is that where you lost your shoes?"

"Yeah, but it didn't get me. How do you know I lost my shoe?"

"The tread is different than the one I tracked." She pointed to the shoes he wore now.

"One set of smooth. One smaller set of heavy."

Carl tried not to look impressed. "So…you hungry?" he asked.

"Yeah." She said as she took in her surroundings. The walls were bright white. They didn't know how dirty it was beyond them.

"I don't suppose you" Rick pulled in a rattling breath. "found any signs of the others?"

"No." she said. "Any medical supplies in the house that can help you with all that?"

His eye was still swollen. The makeshift tourniquet from his sleeve had soaked through and the cut on his nose oozed blood and fluid.

"Just a few Band-Aids. How'd you find us? There's no tracks on the street"

"A bit of luck and a big ol' empty can of chocolate pudding. Came to the porch and saw you through the curtains."

"Yeah, we should cover the windows better."

Carl handed her a can with a spoon sticking out of it and a bottle of water crinkled around the base. Michonne shoveled hearty bites.

"The walkers aren't too bad around here for now. Just a few so far. It's safe enough while dad recovers."

"That sounds like a good plan."

"You gonna stay with us?"

Michonne stopped mid bite. Her eyes fixed on Rick. Carl followed the line of her sight to the couch where his dad was slumped over. His breathing graveled but strong. Michonne assisted Carl in getting Rick into a more suitable sleeping position. She looked over him then out of the corner of her eye at Carl.

"Let's go get your shoe."

Carl nodded and adjusted his hat.

"That one." Carl pointed to the window on the second floor of the white house.

"That the only one?"

"Pretty sure."

Michonne lead the way up the stairs. She stood on one side of the door, Carl on the other. Michonne readied her sword. Looking at Carl she motioned for him to step back, and after a silent protest he conceded. The gargled rasping grew louder-scratching and banging against the opposite side of the door. Michonne turned the handle. The Walker burst from the room clacking teeth and dripping maggots as it lunged clumsily for Carl. The sword whipped the air and cracked through the middle of the Walker's skull. It fell to the ground, bones cracking as it hit knees and rotting face on the hard floor.

His shoe obtained, the two searched through the house for supplies, staying with-in earshot of each other. Michonne focused on bathroom cabinets above and below the sinks, linen closets and vanity drawers. Body wax, cheap razors with speckles of rust on the blade, hair-ties, powder brushes, make-up and all sorts of crap that didn't matter anymore. On the back of a door hung a large pink bag with purple flowers in a dizzy pattern. She grabbed it, slung it across the shoulder opposite her Katana and headed for the next room.

"Just some towels and shirts. Nice purse." said Carl. Michonne turned away without a word.

Carl showed her into the Kitchen "I just went through the cabinets. Haven't been to the pantry yet."

"I'll start there." She said. Carl grabbed the stuff he couldn't carry on his first trip.

Michonne listened at the pantry door. Silence. She dropped her hand from the grip of her sword. Two Walkers with long greasy strings of hair and floral aprons spilled out of the pantry. Jaws unhinged and sharp fingers clawing at her she fell to the ground. Reaching for her weapon, kicking at the putrid, decaying creatures.

Carl grabbed a black skillet from the dangling pot rack, jumped down, and with a strong swing hit one in the face knocking it to the floor. The other walker scrambled toward him and with another swing of the skillet the jaw of the walker hung from bloody threads of muscle, and with another upward swing split its head from palette through frontal lobe. Michonne had just finished a diagonal slice through the sister Walker's head.

Everything in the pantry had a white label with black block letters. The corners curling away from where they had been tapped. One tall cabinet had no label. A breath of relief left her lungs. Tossing the bottles of peroxide, alcohol, cloth tape, rolls of gauze, tubes of antibiotic cream, and half-full bottles of aspirin and sinus meds.

"Let's go." She said.

Carl hurried to put the last few things he could fit into the cloth bag. He had to run a few paces to catch up to Michonne.

Black smoke rolled like evil clouds from the grey block towers. The pop of gun fire and chorus of screams played far in the distance. Rick stood as if his boots were made of lead. Shane charged toward him with a gun in one hand and an empty pink baby carrier in the other.

"I knew it! I was right! Me, I told you. You remember? Huh?" Shane shouted at him. Walkers wandered in all directions in the background.

Rick tried to move his feet, tried to charge back but his legs refused to pull his feet off the ground.

"I knew you couldn't keep 'em safe. You never could and now look. You can't keep anybody safe. Look at you!"

"I did my best." Rick choked out the words.

A crowd gathered behind Shane. Daryl with milky film over his eyes and slacked jaw. Beth walked with her arms loosely swinging at her sides as her feet shuffled and scraped across the ground. Maggie's eyes glazed as a gargled growl rattled her in throat.

"And look at your best Rick. Where's your wife? Where's your daughter? Where is everybody? I could have kept 'em safe, Rick. At my worst I could do better than your best. Too bad you killed me too." Shane dropped the bloody carrier at Rick's feet.

Rick was still out cold. Carl slept with his hat next to him. Michonne sat with her back against an overturned piece of furniture. Forearms resting on her knees, her eyes set on the floor in front of her as her thoughts drifted.

Rick jolted and pulled in a desperate breath. He lay for a moment panting.

"That bag doesn't match your shoes." Rick's voice, deep and low from so much sleep broke her busy thoughts. Rick rubbed his face with his hands and wiped his swollen eye gingerly.

"You don't sleep?"

"No with you twitching about and making all that noise." She said.

Rick looked over at a sleeping Carl with a thought that made him drop his head.

"You can push it away all day long." She said.

Rick lifted his head to look at her.

"There's so much to surviving that you can think on it all the hours you're awake, but when you sleep, that's when they get you isn't it? I have a few haunting me."

Rick replied "Everyone's haunting me."


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Teeth or Bullets

"It's not enough." Michonne said. The household medicines and gauze pads were scattered on the floor between her and Rick.

"Naw. It's good. You two did good."

"It's not good enough for a gunshot wound."

"It's a graze." He said.

"It is a deep graze. It's gonna give you some trouble for a while. I didn't want to wake you. Figured rest was a medicine on its own."

Rick picked through the supplies. The sun was coming up sending pale shades through the windows.

"Go take care of that now." Michonne said.

"Yeah, alright." He filled his hands with the most useful items and pushed off the couch with a grunt. He limped out of the room.

The hushed sounds of pain slipped through the door and into the living room. Carl stirred but fell back into the long, smooth breathing that sleep allows. A loud sound of several "somethings" raining down to the hard floor. She gently tapped on the door with two knuckles.

"You alright in there?" She asked.

A sigh came and then-

"Yeah. I'm just fine."

"Carl found some shirts. Said they were about your size. You want one?" There was a length of silence, she took a step back to the living room when she heard a weighty sigh.

"That'd be nice. Thank you."

Again she tapped on the door only twice. He opened. The square shoulders that held so much, were hunched. His midsection, where Carl would have embraced just a year ago, was now shades of purple with spots of yellowing green. Rick took the shirt out of her hand.

"Thanks again." He said.

"You need to wrap" Michonne pointed lazily at his ribs, "stabilize the ribs. It will help with the pain and healing."

"Can't imagine it'd be any more painful than trying to lift my arms high enough to manage it."

"Here, I will do it." The door swung wide towards Rick. Michonne took the roll of bandages from where they had fallen onto the floor.

"Just lift your arms as much as you can and I'll do the rest."

Rick looked at her, stuck between his thoughts; at last, he conceded.

"How long are you planning to stay here?" Michonne asked "don't hold your breath. Breathe through the pain."

"For a while. Just long enough to get some thoughts together." Rick said, and then took a forced breath.

"I'll take Carl for a supply run when he wakes up." She said.

"I'll go too." Said Rick

"What do you think you're going to carry with a hurt leg and broken ribs? You need to rest, we need you to focus on healing; not looking for food. There. That will have to do." She helped him with the t-shirt and left.

Carl and Michonne left complete silence in the house and silence is where memories emerge. Memories kept under heavy lock and hidden key. He laid down and closed his eyes, but not even his dreams were safe.

"You gotta be quicker. You keep sittin' on your hands thinking 'bout what's best for everybody, and it helps nobody."

"I can't be like you Shane. I won't be." Said Rick. They stood at a splintering wooden fence, fields rolled out on all sides of them. The sun so bright and hot it made his thoughts slow. A weathered barn waved through the hot air in the distance.

"Was I so bad? Your son wasn't safe when I was around? You lost your family long before everything went to hell. How many times you gonna lose 'em before you realize you aren't what they need?" Shane smiled and waved at someone behind Rick.

Rick looked over his shoulder to see Michonne and Carl walking across the field towards the barn.

"Wake-up! Wake-up you piece of shit!" she said.

Rick starred at her through bleary eyes.

"Well? Let me see your hands!" she struggled to keep the oversized black gun steady. "You're that asshole from the prison."

"The prison's gone." Rick said.

"I know it's gone! I lost friends because of you and your stupid prison."

"That was not my call. You know that, if you were there you know that. I tried to find another way. I lost-," he swallowed the sorrow, "I lost friends, family too."

"Stand up! Where are your supplies?"

Rick stood silent.

"You can tell me, and I can take them, or I can kill you and then find and take them."

"What's your name?" Rick asked.

"It doesn't matter. Where are your supplies?" She jabbed the gun at him like a cattle prod.

"Here! They are right over here." Rick moved.

"Stay put!" she screamed.

"I'm just trying to give you what you –". He threw his elbow at her nose. The gun fell to the ground. The girl pulled a knife from her belt and swung wildly at Rick, screaming profane insults. Rick tripped over something and in a red flash she was on him with the knife. He pushed her off and she came at him again like the rabid creature she'd become, he pulled his gun and released a bullet. Her body crashed against the floor.

Rick grabbed the gun and sat next to her body. He took her knife and plunged it through her skull. He pinched between his brow, and with the same hand, reached out and pulled down the lids of her eyes.

No surprise, with all the screaming and gun shots, Walkers now hammered at the door. Several warbling growls crept through the door that bounced open and closed, testing Carl's knot in the cord.

Waiting for the walkers to move, Rick made his way up stairs. Oddly enough, none of them had thoroughly searched the house, only through the kitchen and bathrooms for immediate supplies.

Rick sifted through draws and closets, taking a newer pair of jeans to replace the torn, bloodied and shot-up pair he had been wearing. He passed over notebooks, pictures, and shoes that were too small for him and too big for Carl. Rick pulled a pillow case off of a pillow and put in a couple things that may or may not become useful. In the upstairs bedroom he found a book-light that still worked and half full bottle of aspirin, he put it in the pillow case like a kid on Halloween and made his way to the next room.

He stepped into the next bedroom one foot at a time—there was a crash downstairs-heavy footsteps, confident footsteps that only someone armed and accompanied would have when entering a new place. Rick closed the door with careful urgency and listened. The people crashed through the house like rhino's, and many sets of footsteps pounded up the steps. He didn't have enough bullets for them all, even so, he could hear the sound of guns hitting against belts and backs.

Rick looked around. He went to the window and began to open it when the door knob twisted, he scurried under the bed, the gun catching on the frame as he slid beneath. He wiggled it free and squeezed his eyes shut and hoped the intruders didn't hear. He watched as the two set of booted feet moved through the room. The pillow-case of items lay in a mound just below the window. A hand with thick fingers grabbed it,

"Looks like someone else was here b'fore us," Said a rough voice.

Rick heard the window slide open and the butt of the gun crack against the sill.

"They're gone now." A new voice said came back through the window.

"Don't look like they were the first here neither." The pillowcase dropped back onto the floor, rattling the bottle of aspirin. They plodded out of the room; Rick scrambled out from under the bed, grabbed the pillowcase and jacket and tossed them out the window. Next, he set the gun on the rough tiles and lifted him and his bad leg through the window. He looked at the drop to the ground. His face and shoulders fell. His hand went to the wound on his thigh. He looked back into the room. He had to keep Carl and Michonne from walking into this. He shrugged on the jacket. He jumped from the roof crumpling into his landing. He stifled the screaming pain that surged through his battered body. He pushed off the ground only to fold down again. He tucked himself into a place where the side of the house ebbed. If Michonne and Carl approached the house he wouldn't see them in time to warn them. He readied his gun and pushed out of the recess…..


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note

This is a very short chapter piece of a large chapter. I will post daily for the next few days, as it is edited.

Sorry, my 'editor' (one of) is sick

Part 3

Liar

"You want to tell me what happened back there?" Michonne sat next to the undersized fire. Her Katana on the ground in front of her. Carl looked at Rick, waiting for his answer. A soft wind ruffled the leaves.

"The same thing that always happens, there was threat-had to get out. I hid outside the house until I saw the two of you."

"What do you mean threat?" Carl held a broken stick and began to dig at the red dirt. "Like walkers?"

"No. Not walkers," Said Rick.

"Then it was people." Carl tossed the stick into the fire. "Well, did you see them? Maybe they were some of ours people from the prison."

"I didn't need to see them to know they weren't any of our people."

"But you can't be sure if you didn't see them!"

"Carl, your dad wouldn't leave if there was any chance they could have been from our group. You know that," Michonne said.

"Yeah. I just…I'm just tired. I'm going to sleep." Carl set his hat to the side and shifted until he finally gave up looking for a comfortable patch of dirt.

The cool night air carried the raw scent of leaves and spring.

"I'll take first shift. You still need to rest." Michonne said.

"I don't feel too much like sleepin'." Said Rick

Michonne looked at him over the reaching flames.

"In the house today, a man killed another man for a bed."

"You did what you had to do. You have to be here for your son. It's ugly but, that's the way it is now."

"Yeah, I guess it is. Maybe sanctuary isn't too far away."

Michonne said nothing.

"You don't think so? You keep askin' me what I want to do but, how 'bout you? What d'you think ?" Rick said, and watched the furrow set in her brow.

"Do you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

"I want it to be real but, it just sounds like another Woodberry to me."

"But that was about keeping people out, not reaching out. I just think, maybe it's worth a shot. Someplace where I just got to worry about Carl. Not a group, not—" he stopped himself.

"If you want to go, I'm willing to give it a try. But we have to be honest with ourselves. Andrea wanted Woodberry to be real- wanted it so much that she couldn't see what the Governor truly was. We can't do that. When we find this place, will you be able to walk away?"

Rick looked between her and the ground. The silence between them lengthened.

"You could always drag me away if you need to." Rick said with a half -smile.

"As long as you know I will, if I have to," She returned the smile.

"Oh I know," he said. Rick stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning his back against a heavy log that was smoothed from weather and time; he plunged into a deep sleep.

"We gotta move." Michonne said; shaking him from his sleep.

"Carl?" Rick said.

"I'm ready." Carl stood with full bags; one over his shoulder and the other in his hand. The makeshift camp had been erased, the small divot in the ground for the fire was now filled and topped with a small mound, Carl's footprint on top of it. Rick stood and before the haze of sleep left his eyes, they were walking.

"We should stay covered for a while. We can keep the train tracks mostly in sight while in the woods. That's how we should do it today." Michonne's steps were quick, but only as quick as Rick's remaining injuries would allow. Sometimes faster, then slowing for a few moments, but speeding up again when she realized they had slowed. Rick fell behind.

"Michonne," Carl motioned to Rick.

"Go on." Rick said.

Michonne reinforced Rick's instruction with a nod to Carl. She fell back in pace with Rick.

"I said go on." Rick grumbled.

"Yeah, I heard you." She gingerly put his arm across the length of her shoulders, in a hushed voice she asked,

"Did someone in that house see you? 'Cause we aren't running from Walkers today."


	4. Chapter 4

Authors Note

Thank you for reading!

I will be updating with several shorter pieces this week, probably 500 words each (maybe more.).

Just a little warning.

Part 4

Liar (pt 2)

The crunch of footsteps sounded in the distance. Michonne stood alert and listened to the direction of the lumber steps of the strangers. Rick still had not told her everything that happened at the house.

"Come on, no more resting," Michonne said, as the sound of twig cracked in the distance.

Rick braced himself against her, and Carl led the way. Rick leaned less against Michonne now- his strength and pride replenishing a little more each day.

The woods grew cold as the evening began to fade, the water in the air was the catalyst for the chill. The smell of moss and dank layers of leaves faded in and out of notice.

"We are going to have to set up a camp soon," Carl said, looking at the dimming sky that peeped through the trees.

"Just a little further," Michonne said.  
Rick watched Michonne's determined brow set in a pinch as she set the pace for them with speed conducive to her goal, instead of Rick's comfort. Carl walked only a few paces ahead and listened to the breaths of his father and friend as they struggled forward. They walked until the sky bruised with twilight.

"Alright, we will have to make do with these," Michonne instructed, tilting her head upwards as she turned slowly.

"What are you thinkin'?" Rick asked.

"We cannot have a fire tonight. Even sleeping in shifts is still too risky. We have to camp in the trees," she said.

"What? Are you crazy?" Carl chimed, "we could fall, or a branch could break, or if walkers smell us we could have a horde surrounding us by the time we wake up and we would never be able to fight them off from up there!"  
Carl looked between Rick and Michonne. Rick looked at the boughs of the surrounding trees and then at Michonne.

"He has a point," Rick said.

Michonne drew in a breath as the two set their skeptical eyes on her.

"We won't all be in the same tree. Besides, the risks of ground camping are greater than the risks of tree camping. I've done it before, once, on vacation."

"The lowest branches are pretty high. How are we going to get up?" Carl looked woefully at the trees.

"First I have to teach you about crazy cheese and now I have to teach you how to climb a tree?" She smiled and shook her head.

Michonne rummaged through the bags, emptying the contents on the ground and taking items from the others and stuffing them into the emptied one. A bed sheet, some cords, some clothes line and a book-light. Carl held one end of the sheet and Rick the other as she cut it in half with her katana.

"I know it's going to hurt you, but we are going to need a boost." She said to Rick as she slung the bag over her shoulders.

"Alright," said Rick. He followed her to the tree of her choosing. He braced himself against the tree, laced his fingers and set them on top of his slightly bent knee.

"Ready?" Michonne asked Rick. He nodded. She set her boot in his palms and jumped as he lifted her in one smooth motion up to the first knot in the tree trunk. She clung to the rough knot and grasped for the branch above. Her face pressed against the rough bark as she wrapped her legs around the trunk the best she could. At last, she reached the first branch. She locked her hands and feet around it and pulled herself up to a sitting position.

"Your turn," she said to Carl.

"For real?" he said to his dad. Rick nodded and tried not to laugh. Michonne, with her legs secured around the tree, reached down as Rick shot Carl upwards. Her hand instantly gripped around his forearm.

Michonne lead Carl a few branches higher.

"You are going to have to make one of them strong knots in this cord." She handed it to him. "You need to press your back against the trunk, and wrap this around your lap. Then you're ready for your knot. You can use this for cold and this to signal." She gave him the half-sheet and the book-light.

"Don't let the bedbugs bite!" she said, chuckling.

"Very funny," he said without mirth.

Michonne lowered from the tree stopping on a lower branch. It was moments until the last dim light would surrender to the night. Already, the most impatient stars had taken their place in the sky. Michonne stood in front of Rick,

"Ready? I have a—"

"No, you can't be serious. I need help to walk. How do you expect I'm going to climb a tree?" Rick said.

"The same way that you walk…with my help." Michonne tried to stifle a smirk. Rick looked up at the tree then back at her. He let out a stiff sigh.

"What's your plan?" he said at last.

"You will be in this tree, over here. The branches are a little lower but still out of reach. I will be in the tree over there" she pointed to one several feet away that had a large ugly sore on the trunk. "Let's go. It will be full night in minutes." She led him to the tree she picked for him. Rick gave her another boost—an easier one-a quick moment later her feet landed back on the earth with a thump.

"I'm going to boost you up a far as I can. I left some cord, a light, and the sheet is tied to the branch. I think I can lift you to it, but you will have to grab and lift yourself up the rest of the way. Think you can manage that with those sore ribs?"

"I guess we'll find out." Said Rick, "D'you think it's a good idea havin' all of us so far apart?" Rick looked over at the tree she had pointed out as her own.

"I think it's the safest way for tonight," Michonne said.

Michonne rallied all her strength to get Rick into the tree. He fought against the pain, at last they were all secure in their treetop beds. Rick looked at the tree with the ugly knot several times before sleep overtook him.

Michonne woke to the sound of chirping birds and growls. At the base of Carl's tree were three walkers clawing at the trunk. Their milky eyes bulging, their cracking necks pulled back as they snapped their torn mouths at Carl-who was snoring.

Michonne pulled her sword from its sheath and jammed it through the skull of one walker. The next walker was derailed by an upward swing through its rotting jaw and its dead brain. The third was destroyed by a simple fluid movement of the sword gliding through its mushy eye. Michonne looked up at Carl then over to Rick. Both remained fast asleep.

Michonne began surveying the area around them. She was no tracker, but she could spot footprints pretty well-and the sounds from whoever was making them made it clear they had no penchant for treading lightly.


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Note

Thank you for reading!

I will be updating with several shorter pieces this week, probably 500 words each (maybe more.).

Just a little warning.

Part 5

Keep 'em Safe

(pt 1)

Michonne stooped to see how the careless steps scattered the leaves where they landed, leaving bald patches on the ground.

There were more of them than Michonne had guessed. It is flight this time, fight will come sooner than they want. Michonne stood, looking around and pulling in a breath of morning air warmed by the sun. The woods were filled with natural sounds, she soaked in the calm of the moment. Taking three steps deeper into the woods was like lowering into a cool pond on a hot summer day; she wanted to go deeper into the ephemeral peace.

CRACK! The sound was close and sent her pulse skyward and her hand to her katana. She turned carefully scanning each direction with quick and careful observation. Keeping her steps soft, she moved in the opposite direction of the camping trees. The crackle and rustling of underbrush and bramble grew louder; she could not pinpoint a single direction. They were spread out, but not far enough to leave her a route through them. The trees around her were too young or too weak and bare to hide her.

"Well…. hello there pretty lady." A man with limp greasy hair sauntered forward like a drunk cowboy in a bad western. "What you doing wondering around these big bad woods all by your lonesome?"

Michonne watched as two other men slithered onto the scene.

"Bet'ya this is the girly who left her shirt at the house." Said one of the new comers with a black bandana tied around his skull. "Is that right? You want your shirt back missy?"

Michonne angled her blade in his direction now.

"Why don't you put that stupid thing down, woman. Aint nothin' it can do against our guns and his bow." The last one spoke, a squat man whose pants were too long for his short legs. His voice lacked the sickly sweetness of the others—Michonne preferred his malice over the others' fabricated kindness.

"I'll drop it after you kill me." She said.

The group chuckled in mocking smiles, sharing glances between the three of them.

"We'll get to that soon enough. For now, you need to put that sword on the ground and come along."

"Not going to happen." Michonne said poised to strike even if she only landed one swing before they sunk a bullet.

"Where's Joe?" the squat man asked.

"He's with the new guy" the stringy haired one replied.

"Go get him and hurry up! There'll be hell to pay if he misses out on this fun."

The greasy one slunk off, disappearing behind a curtain of greenery.

The man with the bandana moved closer, his gun sloping down slightly. Michonne whipped around to face him her sword making a hard line between her and the bandit.

"Where's Michonne?" Carl asked as he set his feet on the ground.

"Don't know. She was gone when I woke up." Rick said as he began to open a can with his knife.

"How long has that been? Why didn't you go looking for her? She could be in trouble."

"Michonne is smart. She wouldn't have gone far, I'm sure she's fine." Rick returned his attention to his knife. Carl's brow sat low and crumpled.

"Come on an' eat somthin'" said Rick

"I'm not hungry." He said and sat hard on the ground twisting his fingers.

"How 'bout this," Rick began, "eat somthin' and if she isn't back by the time we're done eating and get our gear together we will go lookin for her…that sound alright to you?"

"After we eat, but before the gear." Said Carl looking determined.

"Fair enough—deal. Now eat."

…_..more soon!_


	6. Chapter 6

Authors Note

Thank you for reading!

I will be updating with several shorter pieces this week, probably 500 words each (maybe more.).

Just a little warning.

Part 5

Keep 'em Safe

(pt. 2)

Rick stood; his back gave a small cracking noise. He adjusted his holster and slung the gun from the house over his shoulder. Carl looked at him and tilted his head slightly as his curious eyes looked out from the wide brim of his hat.

"I should have a gun." Carl said.

"I know you're worried about your friend, but I don't think that'll be necessary. Michonne is strong and smart and…" Rick paused, looked at the ground then released the gun from his holster and handed it carefully to Carl. "She'll be alright."

The two followed the light-pressed footsteps of Michonne. Rick noticed other tracks where hers had been.

"There are other tracks here and they aren't Walkers." Said Rick, looking at the ground.

"We should split up—just a little bit." Said Carl, "We shouldn't have waited to look for her."

Rick chewed on the thought for a moment while he scanned the woods.

He gave a terse nod and said,

"I still want you in ear shot if not sight."

"That's not really splitting up." Carl protested.

"Well it's all I'm willin' to do."

The two waded through the shabby forest; every few steps Rick looked through the branches over to Carl.

A sneering voice caught Rick's ear. He sent a gentle hiss over the distance to Carl, Rick pressed his palm against the air to signal a stop. Rick moved on.

Between the skinny trees he saw Michonne and the two men that held her at gun point. One— hauntingly familiar. He readied his gun and prepared to step forward when another man crashed onto the scene,

"Joe aint comin' " Rick heard him before he was entirely in view. " But lookie at what I found." Rick's stomach knotted as the man came into full sight, his dingy hands clamped onto Carl's shoulder.

Rick dropped back moving as fast as secrecy allowed. He made a wide circle, ducking behind the foliage which provided the best cover to sidle unseen behind the man who held Carl. Rick heard Michonne's voice, the words muddled by the distance but the tone rang clear, she was about to make a move. Rick ducked under a tangle of low spiny branches. He could see the back of Carl's greasy captor and began to creep towards them.

A brutal grip wrapped around Rick's ankle as a choked snarl filled his ears. He crashed to the ground, kicking the corroded jaw of the Walker in repeatedly until its grip waned and he pulled free. The Walker, dragging on the ground after him, the legs missing from the knees down in festering drips of flesh and muscle. Rick had to leave it; the ruckus had already caught the attention of the captors.

Rick moved faster now that the element of surprise was stolen from him.

"Somebody is out there; get movin' take the boy and the samuri and go" one of them said.

"I told you there was someone under that bed you choked me out for—you jackass. It's probably the same asshole."

As the captor's began to migrate from the spot, an old voice haunted the woods cutting into his ears over all other sounds of footsteps, threats, and growls.

"You can't keep 'em safe!" it yelled.

Rick shook it out of his thoughts and focused, trying to get a clear shot or think of another plan. Again, the voice "You can't keep 'em safe." it jeered over and again.

"YOU CAN"T—" the voice began another round.

Rick ran towards the captors, gun ready and his finger on the trigger, he whispered to himself—

'Keep 'em safe." with only one of the enemy in sight he pulled the trigger.

The squat man fired back the popping of gunfire and screams soon joined by gargling snarls and growls. In one swing, Michonne sliced through the face of the man that held Carl. The squat man finally fell to the ground when one of Rick's bullets sunk into his neck. The man with the bandana took his shot. Carl shouted in pain and fell to the ground clutching at his shoulder.

…_..more soon!_


End file.
